Porn Again Christian

excessica publishing

Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 5,485
3 Ratings (3.7)

Ravi and Josh, two college student roommates in Phoenix, use a little good old-fashioned blackmail to bring an ex-porn star -- straight as an arrow and determined to stay that way -- out of retirement for a scorching afternoon of not-so-straight three-way fun.  Luring the macho studbull to their apartment one hot afternoon, the boys present a very convincing case of what they want, and the lengths they'll go to get it -- initiating the kind of straight man/gay sex fantasy most men only dream about ...

Warnings: This title contains graphic language, m/m sex, "forced" sex, light bondage, blackmail/coercion.

Porn Again Christian
3 Ratings (3.7)

Porn Again Christian

excessica publishing

Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 5,485
3 Ratings (3.7)
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Excerpt

He showed up at our door in a starched white button-down shirt that hugged his A-shaped frame and looked immaculate against his golden-brown skin.  His dark blue jeans clung to muscular legs, thighs thick and strong enough to choke a bear, and his black boots were pure cholo.  His thick black hair was well-styled, face clean-shaven, and the only thing I was sorry not to see were his dimples.  I expected that; God knows, he wasn't smiling.  I was glad when he didn't seem to recognize me from the ballgame the day before.

He denied everything at first, until Ravi and I produced printouts of blown-up box cover images from TLA, as well as a few printed out photos -- nudes -- of him we found, after a lengthy online search. When one of the printouts depicted Mr. Garcia lapping on some cute young brunette's twat, the teacher's shoulders finally sank-his body going limp on our white living room sofa.

"Okay," he said, voice tired.  "I get it -- you know.  Fine.  So what now -- you destroy a long-term career I've taken half a decade to build ... over a short-term career I was stupid enough to do when I was young -- one I gave up a long time ago?"

"We don't want to tell anyone," I told Mr. Garcia, sitting on the other end of the sofa.  Ravi, in a tattered brown Barcolounger nearby, nodded agreement.

Mr. Garcia laid the sheaf of papers we'd given him on the couch between us, looking up at me.  His thick, black brows were furrowed together under those dark, expressive and beautiful eyes of his.  "Well, if you want money," he said, "boy, are you guys barking up the wrong tree."  He shuffled on the couch to better face me.  "Do you guys have any idea how little teachers are paid?"

"We don't want money," I told him.

His lips went thin with anger.  "I'm a good teacher," he said.

"We know," I replied.

"I would never do anything to hurt or endanger any of my students, female or male," he added.

"We know that, too," Ravi answered from his chair.  Mr. Garcia's head snapped around to glare at him ... before turning back to me.

"Well ... " he asked, angry now -- his thick brown hands wringing together in his lap.  "Well -- what the fuck do you want, then?" he asked, almost yelling.

I took a deep breath, praying he wouldn't hit me.  "You."

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